


The Caveat Emporium Parts 1-3

by redvalerian



Category: Dana Scully - Fandom, Fox Mulder - Fandom, The X-Files
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Phone Sex, Supernatural - Freeform, x-files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:59:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvalerian/pseuds/redvalerian





	The Caveat Emporium Parts 1-3

Title - THE CAVEAT EMPORIUM  
Author - Red Valerian  
E-Mail address - redvalerian@gmail.com  
Rating - PG/R/NC 17 - all of the above in succession  
Category - Romance/LUST between Scully and......wait and see. It's complicated.  
Spoilers - minor mention of Syzygy  
Keywords - UST City at first but by the optional final chapter, NC17 moves into the neighbourhood in a BIG way.  
Summary - For reasons of her own, Scully insists on going undercover at a telephone sex establishment. In the process, she drives the surveillance team to distraction - said 'team' consisting of her partner and a certain Assistant Director. She also manages to exorcise some ghosts and to rid the world of a serial killer at the same time. All with one hand tied behind her back.

Hey - this is the story where I prove that I can write something with a plot and dialogue. Granted, the plot revolves around sex and lies and the way our present can be over-shadowed by the past (and I'm not talking Mulder and Samantha here) but hey - a plot's a plot.  
DisclaimerUsual drill - they're not mine, wish they were - especially Skinner. They belong to CC or Fox or 10-13 or someone. I promise to return them undamaged. Well - Skinner might be a little disheveled, but I'm only human after all.  
FeedbackAnd of course I want feedback please - did you really need you ask? To hg83@dial.pipex.com

Ooh - nearly forgot. A prize for the first person to guess from whence I stole the title.

 

 

The Caveat Emporium - PG (initially!)

By Red Valerian

Part One

Lasciate Ogni Speranza Voi Ch'entrate!

In which Italian Graffiti means more than it might at first seem

 

 

The street was seedily nondescript, like so many in the inner-city. It could have been in Baltimore, Jersey City, or Chicago - there was nothing specific to pinpoint it geographically. Streets exactly like it could be found everywhere, from coast to coast with the same boarded up stores, the same graffiti-covered walls and the same trash blowing in the same gutters. There was no neighbourhood candy store here, no Laundromat, no Five and Dime, no Corner Grocery. There was no need for them. Because people didn't actually *live* on streets like this. Men visited them furtively, looking over their shoulders and scuttling like cockroaches into dimly lit doorways stinking of urine - doorways that promised "Beautiful Nude Girls" and "Hot Hot Sex" and delivered neither.

Special Agents Dana Katherine Scully and Fox Mulder stood out like angels on a sight-seeing trip to Hell, as they walked purposefully down this street. They were so beautiful on the eye; beautiful to look at and beautifully dressed. Not like mere mortals. They contrasted starkly with the human detritus temporarily inhabiting the rooms they were passing - rooms with suspiciously sticky carpets and very little furniture. Ignoring the fetid interiors, they focused instead on the numbers written over each doorway. The female agent looked almost angry when she finally found the right address. She stopped in front of it and glared her displeasure at what she saw.

The narrow door stood out from the others in the street. It had been freshly painted and newly glazed. On the pristine glass, the words "The Caveat Emporium" had been painted in green, outlined in gold. There was a bell, inviting them to ring for assistance and through the glass they could see a steep flight of stairs going up to the premises above. As she began jabbing the bell impatiently, Scully turned to her partner and snapped out a question.

"Do you think you could tell me what we're doing here now, Mulder," she asked as she continued jabbing the bell. "If it isn't *too* much trouble."

Mulder had never seen her in such a filthy mood. Ever since they'd arrived at this God-forsaken place, she'd been behaving oddly. She'd been ruder to him in the last few minutes than she had in all of the years he'd known her. And he couldn't get to the bottom of it. She'd consistently refused to answer any questions, no matter how tactfully they were phrased. In the end he'd given up trying to talk to her. Now he watched perplexed as Scully continued to assault the doorbell.

"I think you've taught that bell a lesson it will never forget," he said mildly, pulling her hand away at last. Then, pointing to the door of The Caveat Emporium, he answered her question about why they were there. "This place is used for phone sex. They employ twenty-five girls. Or at least they did. Over the last five months there have been several suspicious deaths among the girls working here."

"*Women*, Mulder. They're *women* - not girls," Scully interjected automatically. Then she continued with a string of questions, not allowing him time to answer. She used the bell for punctuation.

"What sort of deaths are you talking about anyway?....jab....why aren't the police involved?....jab.....And what's all this got to do with the X-files anyway?.....jab....jab....jab.... She then covered the bell with her whole hand, pushing her aggression into the mechanism. The intermittent buzzing was now replaced with one long angry incessant drone. It did the trick. They both heard footsteps pounding down the stairs, and then the door was flung open by a man built like a Green Bay linebacker.

"Christ - take it easy lady. I'm here, aren't I?" Then looking them up and down, he added suspiciously. "What do you two want, anyway? You cops?"

Both agents had reached into their pockets and they now held out their FBI identification cards.

"Close - but no cigar. We're FBI - Agents Mulder and Scully, to see Ms. Wiseman." Mulder flashed one of his most winning smiles.

Scully snorted in his direction, then without ceremony, she pushed past the two men and quickly started for the stairs. Something was very very wrong. What in the hell was the matter with her today? He didn't think he could take any more of her awful mood. It pushed him into saying something out of character.

"What's your problem, Scully?" He shouted out the question at her disappearing back. "Is it the wrong time of the month or something?" He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.

Scully stopped on the stairs and turned slowly to stare back down at him. Her face was an angry mask.

"You know what Mulder?" she said at last. "You can really be a patronising bastard sometimes."

Then she turned and continued up the stairs.

Her words were like a slap on the face. He'd never seen Scully acting like this - never heard her using language like this either, for that matter. At least not to him.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Scully?" he shouted back lamely, but she had already disappeared from view.

The linebacker was grinning broadly at Mulder's discomfiture. The agent scowled at him, before gloomily following Scully up the stairs. At the moment he felt like he'd rather be dining with Hannibal Lecter than investigating a case with this new Jekyll and Hyde version of his partner. He got to the top and looked around, his interest pricking at what he saw.

 

 

The Caveat Emporium had taken over the entire second floor of the building. The large rectangular space had been carefully organised for convenience rather than aesthetics. A deep shelf positioned at desk height ran along one of the long and both of the short walls. Privacy screens partitioned this 'counter-top' up into twenty-five individually numbered cubicles, each with its own telephone. At every cubicle but one, young women sat hunched forward and murmured huskily into their phones. Their voices cajoled, gasped, pleaded, crooned, and whimpered - the sobbing tones blending together until the room itself seemed almost swollen; almost ready to explode into a cataclysmic orgasm.

Cubicle Thirteen was the single exception. The empty chair there was pushed tidily under the counter. The phone there rested sedately in its cradle. No-one cajoled, gasped, pleaded, crooned or whimpered in cubicle thirteen. No-one at all. But the eye was drawn there first on entering the room, for a very specific reason. On the wall over that phone, someone had scrawled a graffiti message in blood red paint. The words were in Italian. They read: "Lasciate Ogni Speranza Voi Ch'entrate!"

 

 

Scully was already standing in the middle of the room, staring fixedly at the bloody message on the wall. Her face was an impassive mask. Without even looking to see if Mulder had followed her, she began to speak to him.

"How's your Italian, Mulder? Do you have any idea what *that* says?" She indicated the message with a small nod of her head. He stepped forward and stood beside her, glancing from the wall to her and back again. Scully's voice betrayed almost no emotion but Mulder could sense that her odd aggressive behaviour was simmering just below the surface.

He turned back to the message. "Speranza is probably 'hope'" he answered cautiously. "Am I right?"

"Yeah - you are." Flatly. Still no emotion.

Mulder waited for her to tell him the answer, but she just kept gazing steadfastly at the message.

"Um....Scully - are you going to share with me or not? I presume it something important?" He chanced another look at her stony face.

"You could say it's kind of important, yes," Scully answered at last, still in that oddly neutral tone of voice. A long pause, and then she finally spoke again.

"It's from the Divine Comedy - Dante's vision of Hell? It's the warning which hangs over the gates. You know the one I mean?" She turned to look at him.

Mulder's eyes went wide for an instant. The light had dawned. Scully saw it, and nodded to him as if to say - 'yes - that's right.' Then turning back to the message she translated it aloud.

"Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here."

At that moment the phone in cubicle number thirteen began to ring. Everyone in the room froze and all conversation ceased for an instant. The only movement in the room came from Agent Scully as she calmly walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver. Then she sat down and began to speak. Within a few minutes, her whispering voice was joining the others as she too cajoled, gasped, pleaded, crooned, and whimpered to the demanding male voice on the other end of the line.

-end Part one-

 

 

The Caveat Emporium - PG

By Red Valerian

Part Two

 

 

A short but necessary chapter in which the plot thickens

 

 

Scully screeched out into the traffic, narrowly missing a nervous Volkswagon, which luckily managed to brake in time to avoid disaster. She then accelerated, across several lanes of traffic before shooting onto the entrance ramp and finally settling down on the inside lane of the four lane highway. Mulder chanced one nervous look at the speedometer and then ostentatiously fastened his seatbelt.

"Don't start, Mulder....." Scully hissed, without even turning her head. She downshifted and swerved into another lane to pass a plodding station wagon. Then she shot back into the first lane again, nearly cutting the wagon off.

"I haven't said a word, Scully. Not...a...single...word." His voice was tight. Strained.

She threw a quick glance at his face. "Yeah - well you were thinking too loud, OK? Knock it off."

Mulder stared out of the window and began to talk, as if to himself.

"I'm not even going to *ask* you what in the Hell you were doing back at that sleaze pit, Scully. I don't even want to *know* why you picked up that phone and started giving that guy a very explicit verbal blow job. Right in front of God and everyone. So don't even *try* to explain."

He meant the exact opposite of course. He was daring her to try to explain. Ordering her to, in fact.

Mulder looked her way, waiting for her to start. He was willing to be fair. He'd hear her out. Then he'd wash her mouth out with soap.

Scully said nothing, however. She ignored his words completely and kept her eyes fixed on the road. At least she was driving a little less dangerously now. Mulder bore the silence for a few minutes, but then he finally gave in.

"Well Scully?" He was almost shouting. "What the *Hell* was going on in there? Are you going to tell me or not?"

"I thought you weren't going to ask Mulder. I thought you didn't even want to *know* why I picked up the phone."

The car in front braked unexpectedly, and Scully swerved out of its way, cursing under her breath. Then she continued where she had left off.

"You really need to work on being more consistent, Mulder. A vacillating mind is a mark of a weak character."

Her aggressive driving returned with the snide tone. She changed lanes unexpectedly, repeating the performance of a few minutes before. The tires squealed a warning as Mulder tried and failed to brace himself more firmly. His knuckles were white where they were gripping the dashboard.

"Are you trying to kill us both, Scully? Because if you are, why not just get out your gun. It would be a lot quicker, and that way at least other innocent motorists wouldn't have to die as well."

Just as she had before, Scully ignored the outburst. Completely. She acted as if Mulder wasn't even in the car.

He had initially been hurt and confused by his partner's odd behaviour that afternoon. Then later, after the incident with the telephone, he had been worried and concerned. And, if truth be told, a little intrigued. Not now, however. Now he was just downright angry. Spit in your eye, angry. Totally and completely pissed off angry. Her silence had as much as told him that she didn't trust him. Couldn't confide in him. Saw *him* as an enemy. And on top of that, she really was putting their lives at risk with her dangerous driving. Memories of a small town called Comity flashed into his mind. That had been another tense car journey reflecting another potential rift. He wasn't about to let her get away with it again.

Mulder glared in her direction, ready to continue telling her exactly what he thought of her. He had actually opened his mouth and already planned the next cutting remark when he was stopped in his tracks by what he saw. It was Scully's face. She was crying - crying hard. And the tears ran unchecked down her face and fell in her lap, making dark spots appear on the pale green wool.

His mood softened in an instant. The self-righteous anger and aggression disappeared like tears in rain. Scully was hurting and she couldn't even tell him what was wrong. It must be something important. He was a bastard for not understanding. She'd tell him when she was ready, and not before. He wouldn't push it. He should consider it a compliment that she could show this much anger to him. Looked at in a certain light, it was a sort of gift.

Where had that thought come from?

Mulder suddenly remembered. It was back yard psychology. Not the textbook stuff with a capital 'P' that he'd studied as an undergraduate, but the commonsense sort that ordinary people believed and passed on to each other over the garden fence. The gospel according to Doctor Spock. His parents' bible. They used to quote it to him when he was misbehaving. And he *did* used to misbehave sometimes - before Samantha was taken. When they were still a normal family and he knew how to act like a normal little kid. Rude. Hurtful. Making unfair demands. Screaming at his parents that he hated them when they refused to comply.

They would listen to him patiently and then look down at him and smile. Then they'd pat him on the head and tell him that they knew he didn't mean it. Only secure and loved children, they would explain, could afford to be that awful to their parents. Why? Because they were the only ones who understood that whatever they did, they'd be forgiven. The parents of badly misbehaving children were to be congratulated. They were doing their job successfully. Their children had to be secure and happy deep down - otherwise they wouldn't dare to misbehave.

Of course afterwards - after Samantha - Fox Mulder never misbehaved again. And he never felt secure and loved again either.

Now as he looked at Scully's tears, he remembered the Doctor Spock logic, and he felt comforted. Oxford educated though he was, he could see the truth of the homespun argument. Scully was paying him a compliment by using him as a punching bag. She was taking a chance - risking pushing him away by her behaviour. She needed to know that he understood. That whatever she did or said now, whatever she'd done or said in the past - he would still be there for her. He couldn't *not* care for her. And she needed to know that right now, because he didn't think he could bear to see her crying for another moment.

"Hey Scully," he said softly, knowing that she was listening. Being able to sense it, although she made no acknowledgement. Didn't so much as glance his direction.

"Hey..... " he repeated gently. "When you're ready to talk to me - I'll still be here, OK?"

He saw her nod slightly, and then he left her in peace. Mission accomplished. The rest of the journey was uneventful and they arrived back in DC without incident. Mulder waited for her to come to him, but he was doomed to disappointment. Scully had not felt ready to talk for the rest of that day. Nor the next day. Nor the day after that. And Mulder was getting more and more worried about her.

\- end Part 2 -

The Caveat Emporium - PG

By Red Valerian

Part Three

In which Skinner and Mulder get a BIG surprise

 

 

The two agents stood outside Skinner's office, having been summoned into his presence by a curt telephone call a few minutes before. The Assistant Director was letting them stew outside. As Mulder rapped on the door for a second time, he turned and spoke to Scully, keeping his tone deliberately neutral.

"I don't suppose you'd happen to know what this is all about? Or that you'd be willing to share the information with your partner?" He was trying desperately to hide the exasperation he actually felt at Scully's continued silence. He couldn't believe that she still hadn't taken him into her confidence. In fact, Scully had said almost nothing to him for over a week now - and he hadn't dared to bring up the incident at The Caveat Emporium. He still had no idea why she'd picked up that telephone, or why she'd been crying in the car later. At work it was 'business as usual' and every time Mulder had rung her at home he just got her answering machine.

Meanwhile, Skinner's voice had sounded like the wrath of God. Mulder sensed that Scully knew what it was about but still she said nothing. And her partner felt like he was being sent to do battle without armour or a sword. Buck naked in fact.

The neutral tones approach seemed to be working with Scully, though. She looked like she was about to give in and give him some sort of an explanation. But when she finally spoke, it didn't throw much light on the mystery.

"Look Mulder, it isn't about you - OK? That's all you need to remember. It's about me and something I needed to do. Or rather, something I still need to do." She sighed and then looked down at her feet, before continuing, almost under her breath.

"I must admit though - I meant to get around to talking to you first, just in case Skinner found out."

Mulder was taken aback. 'Just in case Skinner found out? In case he found out what?' This was beginning to sound ominous. He was about to insist that she explain herself when the AD suddenly shouted for them to come in. Scully mouthed 'Just back me up, Mulder - please' and then she opened the door, took a deep breath and walked in. He followed her with a sinking heart.

One glance at the mahogany desk and the glowering figure sitting behind it, told Mulder that Skinner was not a happy Assistant Director. In fact, he looked even more pissed off than usual, although it was kind of hard to tell. The man had made an art of hiding his emotions behind that granite façade. The façade looked a little shaky today, though. Which wasn't good news.

They both sat down and waited for him to make the first move. They didn't have to wait long.

"Agent Scully," he began, in a voice of barely repressed anger. " Would you be good enough to tell me why I had a telephone call today from some god-forsaken police department somewhere, asking me why they hadn't been informed that one of my agents was working undercover as an operative at ..." He paused to look down at a piece of paper in his hand. "At the....The Caveat Emporium. Apparently it's a telephone *sex* establishment." He spat out the word "sex" as if it were an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

With a tremendous effort of will, Mulder managed *not* to spin around and stare at his partner in disbelief. But only just. Meanwhile, Scully sat composedly in her chair and met the AD's flinty gaze with her unruffled one. And when she did answer him, her voice was under complete control.

"I didn't tell you sir, because I suspected that you wouldn't authorize my transfer." The tone was polite and reasonable. It was if she were explaining something patently obvious to someone very obtuse. Skinner's restraint slipped a little more.

He stood up, bracing his hands on his desk, and leaned towards Scully, his burning eyes pinning her to her seat.

"You would have been perfectly correct in that assumption, Agent Scully," he hissed. "In fact I am cancelling your transfer orders right now."

Scully didn't even flinch. She continued to meet his gaze, and if anything she sat up even straigher in her seat as she looked up to answer him. And this time there was the ring of steel under the silky polite surface of her voice.

"With respect sir," she said " I can't allow you to do that."

Mulder had watched the interchange with his mind racing - trying to take it all in. Scully had been working undercover at the Caveat? There was no doubt about it - that could be useful. And she'd asked him to back her up, so she needed some support here. But Scully confronting Skinner and telling him she wouldn't *allow* him to do something? That was just plain insanity. He needed to intercede, before Skinner self-destructed and took Scully with him.

"Sir - if I could interject something at this point?"

Skinner dragged his outraged eyes off of Scully and looked at Mulder as if he'd forgotten he was in the room with them. Then, visibly making an effort to regain some control of his voice, he sat down again and spoke.

"Interject away, Agent Mulder. It's clear that your partner has taken leave of her senses. "

Mulder didn't react to the AD's words. Instead, keeping his face non-committal, he began to mount a perfectly reasoned argument as to why Scully should be allowed to continue working undercover at the Caveat Emporium. Everything he said implied that it had been a joint decision which the two of them had reached together. Everything implied that it was the most natural and necessary thing in the world for her to have done so. He hoped it didn't show that he was improvising like mad - but if Scully *would* push him 'onstage' without a script, what choice did he have?

One thing was working to Mulder's advantage, however. He was familiar with all of the details of the case. After all, it had been at his instigation that they'd found themselves there in the first place. For Skinner's benefit, he summarized the main points now.

In the last five months of operation there had been four inexplicable employee deaths among staff at the Caveat Emporium. Each dead operator had worked from Station 13 and just prior to her death, each had spoken to the same client for over two hours. However, when the tapes had been listened to afterwards, they were found to contain just the female halves of the conversation.

Aside from this anomaly, there was no real evidence to suggest that the deaths had been suspicious. There had been one hit-and-run, one apparent suicide, one car crash and one drowning. But despite the statistical unlikelihood of these all being accidental, the police were not convinced that murder had taken place. And if no crime had been committed, then no investigation was necessary. They washed their hands of case.

Naturally enough, Mulder disagreed. He was genuinely convinced that the four women had in fact been murdered and by the same man. The blank sections of tape suggested that the man was either technically adept or else he had unusual paranormal powers. Moreover, Mulder was certain that whoever had committed these murders would do so again as soon as the opportunity availed itself. All it needed to spark him off was for another operator to answer the phone at Station 13.

But that was not going to happen. Not if the employees at The Caveat had any say in the matter.

"Since the last death, none of the women has been willing to work at Station 13. Not that you can blame them." The sympathy in Mulder's tone was evident.

Then came the final improvisation.

"That's why Agent Scully and I decided that the only way we'd get to the bottom of it would be to put a trained agent behind the phone in an attempt to lure the killer out into the open once more. " Mulder sat back in his chair and waited for the cross-examination which he knew was bound to follow.

Skinner pounced immediately on what seemed like the obvious weak point in Mulder's explanation.

"You say you decided that you needed a trained agent? Trained in what exactly, Agent Mulder? Are you suggesting that Agent Scully has experience in providing telephone sex? Because that's the only training which would be useful in an operation such as the one you are describing. And I think you'll agree that in this particular arena, Agent Scully would find herself rather out of her depth."

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and also leant back in his chair. Waiting. Daring Mulder to answer him.

For a moment there was silence in the room, while Mulder tried to come up with a convincing counter argument which wouldn't entail him having to admit to his recent first-hand knowledge of Scully's verbal skills. But before he could say a word, it was Scully herself who spoke.

"As a matter of fact, Sir," she said. "I have a great deal of experience in precisely that field."

Two male heads spun in her direction. Two pairs of eyes were riveted to her face as she continued.

"The fees for attending medical school are astronomical, you know. And my parents had four children to provide for and very little money. I very soon discovered that I had a ..."

She paused for a moment and chose her words carefully.

"A particular ....talent....for providing certain services over the telephone. And the remuneration was quite exceptional."

She maintained eye-contact with a mesmerised Skinner as she finished speaking.

"I will admit that I thought I had put all that behind me, Sir. I had always worked under an assumed name. I was paid in cash. I thought no-one could ever find out about it. Truthfully, I wanted to forget about it myself. And I had almost succeeded too."

She paused for a moment and quickly glanced at Mulder. Then smiling ruefully, she continued.

"Then last week Agent Mulder unintentionally brought it all out into the open again when he took me on a little trip down memory lane. Oh - they may have put in a new door, and slapped on a coat of paint - but the place hasn't changed at all. Not a bit. You see sir, the Caveat Emporium is the name of the establishment where I worked part-time for four years. For the entire time I was a medical school, in fact. And I always worked out of Station 13."

Skinner and Mulder were both now staring at Scully in patent disbelief. She looked from one to the other, and almost felt sorry for them. They were obviously having real trouble accepting what she had said. And she couldn't blame them really.

Hadn't she spent a great many years trying to erase her past? Trying to re-invent the Catholic schoolgirl she had been before she's gone to work at the Caveat. Convincing everyone - even herself - that she was the lady-like Dr. Scully. The wearer of gold crosses and demure blouses. A woman who epitomized refinement and gentility. Practically an Ice Queen.

No-one knew how much she actually liked that epithet. It meant she had succeeded in burying the past.

But she should have known better. Some things refuse to stay underground, no matter how deeply you try to bury them. She'd found that out as soon as Mulder had told her where they'd be going to conduct their next investigation. And she'd known then - without understanding quite how she knew, that there'd be no escape for her. She'd walked through that familiar door and up those well-remembered stairs and seen the empty cubicle - Number 13. It was as if it had been waiting for her to come back.

And on the wall had been Dante's message, seemingly mocking her:

"Lasciate Ogni Speranza Voi Ch'entrate!" - "Abandon hope all ye who enter here".

And then the telephone had started ringing and she'd known that she had no choice. She'd known without a shadow of a doubt, that it was ringing for her.

The silence in the AD's office was growing uncomfortably long. Mulder and Skinner seemed to have lost the power of speech. Again, it was Scully who broke the silence at last.

"What's the matter gentleman?" she asked almost gently. "Cat got your tongues?"

 

 

\- end of part three -


End file.
